The Source of Self-Regard - Toni Morrison Page 0,13

well and good in theory, but in practice something quite other took place, an “othering” that took two forms: (1) the encoding of race in order to perpetuate some very old stereotypes even while the stereotypes were being disassembled in the popular mind, and (2) the insistence upon underscoring racial difference at precisely those moments when it really made no difference. For example, last June a New York Times reporter struggled heroically with the twin demand to be accurate and to theatricalize race in an article on immigration in Florida. The piece was headlined “As Hispanic Presence Grows, So Does Black Anger.” What could “black” possibly mean in that formulation other than the commonly accepted code word for poor or working poor or economically marginal? We could assume that the Hispanics are also poor, without jobs, homes, and so on, but that would be a mistake because the Hispanics in question are Cubans fleeing Castro for a city heavily populated with middle-class Cubans and so, unlike Haitians, have a welcome mat of social services spread out before them. But whoever they are, they are certainly competing for jobs and housing with any and all. The question becomes, Why are blacks singled out? Why are they not called Miamians or “local.” (“As Hispanic Presence Grows, So Does Local Anger”?) Except when they are soldiers, blacks are never American citizens. Why? Because in media-talk we are not local, or general citizens—we are those whose financial security is fragile; those whose reactions are volatile (“anger”—not concern). If the reader knows the code, this headline’s use of the term “local” (economically fragile American citizens) could very well be Miami’s white working poor. But that is dismissed at once by the knowing, because the already encoded black-versus-anything-else connotation is what we have been led and taught to believe is the real, the vital, the incendiary story. There is no printable word for “poor” that does not connote “race.” Thus, under the guise of representing the interests of black citizenry, the conventional stereotypical oppositions are maintained and useful information is sacrificed in the process.

It turns out to be a very difficult piece of work for this reporter. Consider the necessary contortions language is put through to describe the impact of recent immigration of Miami’s Spanish-speaking population on its English-speaking one—which is or ought to be the real point of the story. These are the labels that appear: “Cubans of both colors”: “non-Hispanic whites”; “non-Hispanic blacks”; “native-born English speaking blacks”; “Hispanic whites”; “Haitian and other Caribbean blacks.” What are “non-Hispanic blacks”? Africans? No. Who are “Haitian and other Caribbean blacks”? Cubans? No. Think how clear the article would have been if nationality and language had been the mark of difference. It would tell us that American citizens were nervous about the wave of immigrants who spoke little English and were after their jobs. But clarity took second place to skin color and race took pride of place over language. The result: the obfuscation of everything but racial identity. “Patterns of Immigration Followed by White Flight.” Middle-class blacks out of the loop here.

Even when within the race, where differences of national origin are information, as in the Crown Heights melee, where the population is predominately Caribbeans who have no history of American black and American Jewish relations, that distinction was subsumed into generalized blackness.

So confusing are the consequences of race stress that it led a CNN reporter to wonder with deep concern if someone who spoke Haitian could be found to help a Haitian pilot who had skyjacked a plane to Miami. French never occurred to him.

Now I would like to follow those questions with one other. Since it seems important in some way to represent blacks, we need to ask ourselves what we are represented as, and why. How can the press be challenged to represent any point of view—white, black, neither, both—that does not evoke a pseudo-world of commodified happiness and unified agreement on what or who is the enemy? The “enemy” seems to be either a diffuse, discursive vaguely black criminal or the angry helpless poor (who are also black).

In discussing the way blacks are represented—notwithstanding the successful examples of the elimination of race bias and some extraordinarily fine reporting of race matters (Hunter-Gault, on the Zulu Nation)—and the highly volatile effects that racially biased representation has on the public, it may be of some interest to locate its sources, because although historical, race bias is not absolute, inevitable, or immutable. It has a